When Randomness Reigns
by Billy Bones
Summary: You know those stories where the gang is hunting down horcruxes and battling Voldemort every five seconds and generally saving the world? Well, this isn't one of those fics. Instead of the usual chaos, Hogwarts is now consumed by insanity.
1. Chapter 1

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all sitting by the edge of the lake one evening, relaxing after another tough day of magical study. It was November, but weather wasn't powerful enough to get passed Dumbledore's new super duper anti-everything-entering wards, and Ginny and Hermione were attempting to get rid of their nasty, pale English skin tones. Ron couldn't help sneaking peeks at Hermione's lithe form—when had she gotten all those curves, and when had her hair smoothed out and—wait. That's not right. Wrong storyline.

Moving on.

"Where's Harry, Ron? I haven't seen him since last night when he took me in the broom closet," asked Ginny, Ron's possibly promiscuous, possibly possessed, possibly pro-Slytherin little sister. My, that's a lot of P's.

"I don't know," Ron said, as he shoved precisely thirty-seven Cauldron Cakes in his mouth all at once. "He ran out of Divination this morning clutching his forehead and screaming 'no, no, Voldemort! Don't kill Sirius!'" Five more Cakes. "I think he had gas."

Ginny nodded her head and continued to soak up the intense rays, no matter that it was six at night and the sun should have been long gone.

So they sat there.

"Hey, do you hear something?"

"No."

"Oh, okay."

They sat some more.

Suddenly, from out of the clear blue sky, a very distinct black speck appeared over the horizon.

Ginny shielded her eyes from the glaring evening sun and used her amazing Seeker skills to see what the dot was. "I have no idea what that is. What about you, Hermione?"

"That's a black spot in the sky. Duh, Ginevra."

Ginny stuck out her tongue at the know-it-all and turned to Ron. "What do you think it is, Ron?"

"I think this is a dirt-flavored bean, but it could be chocolate I suppose. Not that I care. It's still food, right? Gobble, gobble."

The fiery redhead (read stubborn mule) ripped the box of beans from her brother's hands and forcibly turned his head towards the growing black smudge in the sky. "What is that?" she asked again through clenched teeth.

Ron shrugged. "It's a bird."

"It's too big to be a bird."

"It could be a really big bird"

"But it's not."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"Oh, well with logic like that… It's an aeroplane then. Merlin, Ginny. Why are you so worked up about an aeroplane?"

Hermione sniffed. Can anyone say _Hogwarts, a History_? "Do you even know what an aeroplane is, Ronald?"

"Er…"

They continued to rest on their posteriors.

The black smudge was now a definite black thing. It passed Dumbledore's super duper wards without a hitch.

Ron squinted his eyes. Suddenly his mouth dropped open and his finger was in the air. "It's Harry! It's Harry! My famous savior friend! Yay!"

And Harry landed on the grass in front of them even though they were lounging in front of the lake and that would logically put Harry in at least a few inches—excuse me, centimeters—of water. He stood with his hands on his hips and a breeze blowing through his hair. His new, mysterious cape fluttered in the same breeze.

"I just saved Sirius from certain death and battled fifty-eight Death Eaters single-handedly and killed Voldemort for good by blowing him a kiss and impossibly saved the day again!"

"Huh," said Hermione eloquently. She looked at her watch—which would not leave a tanline because it's magic, hello—and said, "We should get in for dinner."

"Oh, food, yay! Roast beef and taters and puddings, oh my! Gobble gobble!"

So the four young witches and wizards went inside for dinner.

* * *

A/N: This is in response to Kristy Thomas' random phrase challenge. Her phrases are random and my chapters will accordingly match. It's all in good fun, so just sit back and relax.


	2. Girls

Ron could not find his teddy. It wasn't tangled in his bed covers and it hadn't been knocked underneath his four poster and it wasn't in the medicine cabinet (Ron sometimes accidentally put it there). So he made his way down the dormitory stairs and into the common room to see if the beloved bear was hibernating in one of the squishy sofas. The fire flickered in the grate and Ron thought every shadow was his darling teddy bear trying to make its way back to him.

"I've been waiting for you," said a sultry voice by the fire.

"Teddy?"

"Not quite, Ronald," came the same voice.

Ron made his way to the fire where he could see a head poking above the couch. Wait. He recognized that big bushy hair. "Hermione, have you seen my teddy bear? I can't find him anywhere." He finally made it around the couch and faced Hermione. "Oh."

There was Hermione, clad in only lacy black underthings and lying spread-eagle on a sofa with Ron's teddy bear in a very compromising position. "Hello, Ronald," she said with a tiny smile.

"Teddy!" He snatched the little bear from Hermione and turned to go to bed.

"Don't," Hermione started, "you want to cuddle with me instead?" She wriggled around and stretched the lace.

"No, I've got Teddy, thanks," Ron scowled at her and stomped up to the boy's dormitory. "Stupid bloody girls, stealing my Teddy to get me into bed."


	3. Potions

Late one night Harry and Ron were playing wizard's chess in the Gryffindor common room when Hermione stumbled through the portrait hole. Her hair looked wilder than usual and her robes were rumpled and slightly crooked.

"Hey, 'Mione. Where've you been?" Ron asked as he watched one of his pawns wrestle Harry's last knight off the board.

"Oh, nowhere," she said in a very convincing impression of Luna Lovegood. She floated over to the table where they were playing and sat down in a squishy chair. "Lovely night, isn't it?"

Harry looked out one of the tower windows to see the same Antarctic blizzard that had been raging for the past three days. When he turned back to her, he took in her full appearance. Shoes untied, one sock missing, shirt untucked, tie stuffed into a pocket. "What's on your ear?"

She wiped at it and looked at the offending goo in her hand.

"That," she said with a big grin, "is Snape's greatest potion of all."


	4. Mother Goose

"Human to animal transfiguration is one of the most complex bits of magic there is. While not as difficult as object to animal transfiguration, it does require quite a bit more power. Human to animal transfiguration is similar to an animagus transformation, however that extra power is necessary to force the human body into a foreign shape and hold it there. Because the animal is an actual part of the animagus, it is not challenging to stay in form…"

It was sixth year transfiguration. Instead of listening, George, Fred, and Lee were playing Hang Man. They'd been playing on the same piece of parchment for the past three years. They hadn't been listening to McGonagall for the past five and a half.

"James and the giant blank. The giant blank. This isn't dirty, is it, Fred? Because last time we played dirty Hang Man we were in detention with Filch for a month. He thought we had some sort of dirty fetish."

"Be quiet, Lee, I think I have it. James and the giant—"

"Mr Weasley!"

"Professor McGonagall, I just about had it! If you wanted to play, you should have told us."

"Yeah, that was really rude, professor."

McGonagall's nostrils flared, and Fred and George smiled innocently at her.

"Mr Weasley."

"Yes?" they said in unison.

"Fred Weasley, come to the front and demonstrate a successful human to animal transfiguration."

Both twins stood up. Feigning surprise, they looked at each other and seemed to have a silent conversation. They then proceeded to play a round of rock, paper scissors, and the victor of the name Fred moseyed to the front of the class. With a complicated wave of his wand and a most likely unnecessary shake of his booty, Professor McGonagall transformed with a pop.

"Honk!" said a very angry goose.

"Oh, Mother Goose, please tell us a story!" begged Lee.

"The one about the old lady and the shoe!" yelled George.

Goose McGonagall glared at the class and with a final honk, waddled out of the room.

"She's such a silly goose," said George as the class left early. "Interrupting our game and not expecting any repercussions."


	5. The Wizard of Oz

Snape was walking down the stone corridors at a pretty good clip and his robes billowed out behind him, an impressive feat for a sixteen-year-old. He had just escaped Madam Pomfrey's clutches, and despite her absurd warning to 'take things easy,' he was on his way to exact his revenge.

Entering the library like a large oily bat, he looked around the room, and when that proved fruitless, he started sniffing with his over-large nose. Yes, they were here. His dunderhead senses were tingling. He sniffed again. First with the left nostril, then with the right. Southwest corner, 23.7 feet from here. He began his brisk pace again and rounded the final corner with a flourish.

James Potter and Remus Lupin were surrounded by forgotten books and bits of parchment. They abruptly stopped talking when they saw Snape and looked up expectantly at him.

Without preamble, Snape leaned down close and looked straight at James. "I'll get you, Potter," he said. "And your little dog, too," he added with a nod to Lupin.

And with another grand display of his cloak, he left the library. He could smell snicker doodles baking down in the kitchen. Yummy.

* * *

Author's Note: Short, I know, but I have something of a proposition for all you fantastic readers. I'm going out tonight (my mother is having a heart attack) and depending on the mood I'm in when I get back, I may just post the next chapter. So you, my darlings, can let my co-workers try and put me in high spirits, or you can try and butter me up yourselves. Your choice. Have a lovely evening.


	6. WWJD

Fred and George were doing homework. No, really they were. Professor Binns assigned them a four foot essay, and it was four feet each. They checked.

Even though the wee ghostie professor assigned the essay two weeks ago, they were just starting tonight, and of course the common room was extra loud because they needed to get an obscene amount of work done. Several Exploding Snap games were going on around the room, a group of fourth years were demonstrating what the Shrieking Shack sounded like, and Ron had his teddy bear doing an elaborate strip tease for Harry and Hermione.

"Discuss the ramifications of Burdock Muldoon's label of 'beasts' and 'beings' and several changes to the definitions that have occurred over the past six centuries. Mention any possible future amendments," read Fred from the prompt.

"How are we supposed to bloody know?" George asked as he opened his history book. The spine popped.

"And who the hell is Burdock Muldoon?" Fred turned the prompt over to see if there were any hints. There weren't.

Wolf whistles caught their attention from across the room. Ginny had taken over Teddy's strip tease and was showing Ron how it was done. Harry held Ron back but just barely, and many of the Gryffindor boys were crowded around the table Ginny was using as a stage.

George wiped an imaginary tear from his cheek. "Our little sister," he said

"All grown up and stripping like a pro," Fred completed.

They turned back to their essay.

"Burdock Muldoon, Burdock Muldoon," Fred mumbled as he rubbed his temples.

"Burdock Muldoon became Chief of the Wizard's Council in the early fourteen century. He decreed all bipedal creatures as 'beings' who ought to have a say in their government and all other creatures were labeled as lowly 'beasts.' Around 1350, Elfrida Clagg expanded…"

It was Hermione. Who else? But Fred and George had that evil glint in their eyes, the one that never led to pleasant happenings.

"We need to ask ourselves," George said.

"What would Voldemort do?" said Fred.

With an unspoken agreement they whipped out their wands and trained them on Hermione.

"No, Voldemort! I must save the day!" Harry threw himself between Hermione and the twins. "I'll do what my mum did! Love shield!"

The common was watching the exchange, and when nothing happened, Ginny exclaimed, "Harry's turn!" and Harry proceeded to strip for all of Gryffindor tower. He even made a couple galleons.

* * *

Author's Note: You may thank Schermionie for the reappearance of Teddy. He would have been lost forever if it weren't for her. And I must say, Shame on you all. I am not in any way buttery. Good day.


	7. Pirates

"The ship! It's sinking!"

Albus Dumbledore loved his baths. Especially when they had lots of bubbles and rubber duckies and other fun bath toys. Today he was playing pirates.

"Arr, Yeh'll join the crew or walk the plank, yeh scurvy cur!" he said with a growl. One hand held a doll—er, action figure—that looked like a squid man and the other clutched a rather dashing pirate man. "I'll take the kraken over you any day, Jones," the venerable professor said in his regular voice. Dumbledore dropped the handsome pirate into the water and grabbed a busty Barbie. "Noo, Will! I love you," Dumbledore said in his best feminine voice. "It's alrigh', love." Here Dumbledore threw the squid man over his shoulder and picked up another pirate with a fetching hat. "We can get together now and have lots of pretty babies now that dear William has met the kraken," the professor said in a weird sort of drawl. "Oh, yay!" said the Barbie. Then Albus Dumbledore made kissy noises as he brought the two dolls together.

"Professor, my scar hurt again and I think it was because of Voldemort but it also could have been Ron because he punched me in the face right before it started hurting. Oh."

Harry rounded the corner just in time to see two pirate men consummating their undying love.

"Ah!" Dumbledore let out a lovely feminine scream. He covered his gross old man goodies with the kraken. Talk about animal cruelty.

Harry pulled off his robes and school clothes faster than you can say 'yummy.' He pulled a doll with a funny white wig seemingly out of nowhere and hopped into the tub. "What're we playing? Pirates, yeah? You are undoubtedly the worst pirate I have ever heard of."

And Harry and Albus played pirates in the tub for the rest of the night.


	8. Snuggle Bunnies

"Ron thinks he's your favorite snuggle bunny, but I know better. You love me. I'm not really surprised, I am the boy savior after all."

Harry flicked his hair back and did a bad Fabio pose. He and his secret lover where ensconced under the covers of Harry's four poster bed, hiding from the harsh glare of the afternoon sun. Harry's long body curled around the smaller one and he stroked the soft brown hair.

"I can't wait to wipe the smirk off his face," Harry whispered.

A few minutes later Harry was fast asleep, his deep breathing the only sound in the empty dorm.

"Ah!"

Rudely awakened from his slumber, Harry sat upright and held the covers to his bare chest. "Ron! You could have the decency to knock, you know."

"Decency? Decency!" Ron sputtered. "Have some decency says the man currently in bed with my honey!" He screamed the last part and his face was the infamous Weasley red.

"We love each other!"

"But he's my teddy!"

Harry dropped the covers and clutched Teddy to his chest instead. "Ron, listen to me," he said calmly. "Teddy doesn't love you. How could he? You're a ginger kid." Here Harry scrunched up his nose. "I'm so much better than you. I'm a hot orphan and the wizarding world's savior and I can cook. Can you cook, Ron? No. I'm obviously the better man for Teddy. You want Teddy to be happy, don't you? Let Teddy go."

Tears made their way down Ron's cheeks. He stepped forward until he was at the foot of Harry's bed.

"B-b-but," he stuttered between sobs, "but you're the man for me, Harry!" he wailed.

Harry looked at Ron coldly. "No one likes a ginger kid, Ron. Go try the Hufflepuffs."


	9. Flower Power

This was it. The final battle. Harry was finally going to defeat Voldemort and be able to live a normal life with oodles of sex with many, many different women. All he had to do was cast one curse and it would all be over. There would be no more worrying about the Dark Lord or his minions and their nefarious plans. There would be no more worrying about the fates of his friends or their families. There would be no more Jell-O because, come on, anything that jiggles on its own must be possessed by a dark lord.

Harry would kind of miss the Jell-O.

Back to the present: Voldemort and Harry were standing in the middle of a random dark fortress. Harry had no idea how he found it, but after wandering down the grimy, grody halls for two hours he found the inner chamber where luckily enough Voldemort and all his followers were congregated. The Death Eaters were quickly taken care of with a simple expansive Cheering Charm from Harry which left only him and Voldemort in the heart of the scary dark fortress.

The two stood there, wands pointed at each other, bodies tense, waiting for the other to make the first move. After standing and doing nothing for three full hours, Voldemort lowered his wand and relaxed his body.

"What are you doing, Potter? Do you even have a plan, or are we just going to stand here for all eternity?" Voldemort said slowly but still bitingly.

Harry remained tense and didn't lower his wand an inch. "I have to kill you. Dumbledore said it was the only way I would get laid." The mention of sex made his eyes darken and turn an even more intense shade of green, as if they were preparing to seduce a girl then and there.

"Man, screw Dumbledore. He's a 150-year-old virgin." He took a drag on an odd-looking cigarette that Harry hadn't noticed before.

"No!" Harry gasped. His mentor, the man he played pirates with, was a virgin! It couldn't be! Well, actually it did make sense. The lingering glances, all the 'accidental' inappropriate touching, the babble about the power of love. Ugh. Only a virgin would think love was powerful. Harry lowered his wand.

"Yeah, that's right. You got to stick it to the man." Voldemort put his wand away and started walking towards Harry. "Otherwise you're going to end up an old, wrinkly virgin just like him." He took another drag and his eyes seemed to glaze over a bit. "That's what he wants, you know. It's Dumbledore's big plan. He thinks people in power should be virgins so they have their wits about them Pft. He's just bitter because no one wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with him his fifth year," he finished and took another deep drag on his funny cigarette before offering it to Harry.

He took it and inhaled just like he saw Voldemort do. Little white lights seemed to burst in front of his eyes. Harry and Voldemort stood in the middle of the dark fortress and didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"Hey, man. Let's go get some hookers and make a man out of you," the snake-man drawled.

"You mean you're not a virgin?" Harry couldn't believe anyone would want to sleep with such an ugly man, even if he did wear some pretty snazzy suits.

Voldemort laughed. "Man, what do you think I did with the Death Eaters during all those meetings?"

"Ooh." Harry drew the word out really long and when he finally finished left his lips in the 'o' shape. After a couple minutes he asked, "Can my prostitute have red hair and an uncanny resemblance to my mother?"

"Yeah, man. Whatever tickles your pickle."


	10. Lessons in English

"Okay. Here we are. The big one. The match that determines the Cup. The game that could set the rest of my life. But no pressure, okay? We have nothing to worry about. We've been practicing every day for weeks. We can play in any weather. There aren't any Dementors to come and ruin the match and no possessed professors to try and kill our seeker. We have the best players in the school riding some of the best brooms in the world. Our seeker was the youngest in a century, and hasn't lost us a match yet. Our Chasers work seamlessly together, and getting the quaffle from one them is like trying to get an egg from a dragon. Our beaters can practically read each other's minds and love hitting things and causing mayhem. And with teammates that good, how can I possibly let you down? I won't let a single ball in! Just remember, now. There is no 'I' in Team Gryffindor!"

The other Gryffindor team members looked at Wood with open mouths.

"Actually, Oliver," said Alicia Spinnet, "there is."

He waved his hand as if to brush her away. "You know what I mean. No single person can win the match, blah, blah. Shall we go get that cup now?"

The rest of the team cheered and rushed out onto the field. When they saw the Hufflepuff team they stopped in their tracks. Their opponents were all mounted on Peruvian Vipertooth dragons.

"I quit," said Fred.

"I quit," George followed.

"I quit too," said Alicia.

"I quit," Katie said.

"I quit as well," said Angelina.

"I quit," finished Harry.

Wood looked at them in exasperation. "They're only a couple of dragons!"

George said "pft," and the former members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team moved back.

"Then I'll play! Here comes Team Wood!" shouted Oliver before he ran to the center of the pitch. Cedric Diggory's dragon took a bite out of the insane Keeper before he could even mount his broom, and Hufflepuff won the match easily.

And so was the death of Oliver Wood.


	11. Jim West

_Dear Diary,_

_I saw him again today. I can't believe it's possible for anyone to be that handsome. Do you think he'll ever notice me, Diary? __But no.__ I'm not worthy of his attention. I'm barely worthy enough to wash his sheets. Sometimes, Diary, I snuggle in his sheets before I wash them, and pretend we are snuggling in them together. And this one time—_

"Ooh, who doe Peevesie see here? What is the ickle house elf writing?"

The poltergeist swooped down in an attempt to see the writing, but Dobby slammed the book shut quickly. His big, elf ears were a peculiar grey color. He looked oddly reminiscent of the time Ron Weasley accidently walked in on Professors Snape and Dumbledore in an extremely compromising position.

"Dobby is doing nothing! Dobby is working like a good house elf!" Dobby said as he took a handful of his shirt to scrub the table he had been writing on.

"Nuh uh, ickle house elf. I saw what you were writing. You luuurve somebody," The poltergeist said with an evil grin, though he did not announce it to the rest of the castle. "Tell dear Peeves who the lucky man his," he said in a greasy voice.

Dobby looked left and right fearfully. "Dobby is being in love," he whispered, "with someone that isn't knowing he exists." He buried his face in his tiny hands.

Outside, Peeves looked every bit the sympathetic friend. Inside, however, he was as giddy as a schoolgirl. This had major pranking potential. He just had to play it right.

"Little, darling Dobby, why don't you tell your beloved of your existence? You can get together and have oodles and oodles of offspring," Peeves said in his greasy, sympathetic voice.

The house elf gasped and shook its head until its ears fwapped against its head. "No! Dobby is not being worthy of his love! Dobby is a lowly house elf, and he is the great—"

Peeves cut him off. "You're a catch, Dobby. You can cook and clean and you have those sexy ears. Who wouldn't want you?"

"Really?" Little tears leaked out from Dobby's eyes. He shivered with excitement. Maybe Peeves was right. Besides, what did Dobby know? He was only a house elf after all. Decision made, he sprung to his feet. "Dobby is doing it! Dobby is telling his beloved!"

"Go get 'em, cowboy!"

With a happy, love-filled crack, Dobby disappeared. He reappeared in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory. He looked around a bit before he finally jumped up on one of the beds. He swept off his many hats and bowed deeply.

"Dobby is loving you with all of his heart, and he is hoping you is feeling the same."

From the head of the bed, Teddy stared back at Dobby with his hard, plastic eyes. No, he did not feel the same.


	12. Estoy Confusado!

Harry slept late again. He had been up late the evening before playing Little Mermaid in the Prefect's bathroom. The common room had been completely empty when he snuck back in the night before, and it was similarly vacant this morning. Breakfast was nearly finished, and Harry rushed through the corridors in hopes of snagging at least a donut or eight.

When he reached the Great Hall, however, he skidded to a halt just inside the room. It was pure pandemonium. Harry didn't see Voldemort or any Death Eaters anywhere, but he did spy weird, little…men scurrying to and fro across the Hall. They ran across the tabletops, underneath the benches, between people's legs. And no one seemed to see them but Harry. He wondered if they were threstral babies.

"Ahahahaha! Harry!" It was Ron. He slung a heavy arm over Harry's shoulders and laughed loudly in his ear. "Whoa, Harry! You're wearing glasses! Did you know that?" He poked Harry's glasses, leaving a greasy fingerprint on the lens.

"Er, yeah, Ron. I do know that. What happened here?" Harry questioned. Ron was acting more stupid than usual. And that laugh was really annoying.

"Happened?" Ron said slowly. His glazed eyes focused for a second and then completely glazed over. "Man, I'm hungry. Ooh! Porridge!" The gangly red-head hopped onto the Slytherin table and started lapping up the grey slop like a dog. Harry watched in morbid fascination.

"Intriguing, isn't it?"

Harry looked over and inhaled a mouthful of wild brown hair. "Hermione! What's going on? What's wrong with Ron?" After spiting out the hair and taking a step back, he noticed the girl tracking one of the creatures with her eyes. He wasn't imagining them then. "What are those things?"

"_Radix __Venenum_," she spouted. At Harry's incredulous stare, she simply said, "Drug gnomes."

The look on Harry's face didn't change when she gave the common name of the creatures. After years in the magical world, Harry had never heard of such things. It sounded like the sort of prank Fred and George would pull. "What?"

"They're drug gnomes. See their ugly, little boots? That's how you can tell a drug gnome from an average garden gnome." She pointed to one vermin and Harry yelped upon noticing its disgusting footwear. Hermione went on in lecture mode: "There are many different kinds of drug gnomes, and you can tell them apart by their different dress, though all wear the same ugly, little boots. Observe that particular gnome's prominent display of his arse. It is part of the Crack Gnome family. Note that gnome's dainty skirt. It is of the Mary Jane family. See this gnome's bright, flashy clothing? It belongs to the Acidic Gnome family."

A gnome that looked oddly like Cupid rushed up and bit her calf. She looked down at it, stunned for a moment, before looking back at Harry. His mouth was wide open. A bit of spittle was slowly trekking down his chin. It looked like his eyes would pop out any second. Hermione looked calmly back at Harry, seemingly waiting for his next question.

"How did they even get here?" he asked after wiping his chin.

"You see, on the twelfth waxing gibbous of every sixty-seventh year, when Pluto is 30.2 degrees to—"

"I'm so confused!" Harry interrupted.

Instead of frowning like she normally would, Hermione ran her fingers through Harry's hair. "Wow," she breathed. Harry noticed her eyes were unfocused just like Ron's. "Wow," she said again as she patted his head. "Your hair is so, so black. It feels black," she breathed against his cheek.

"Right," Harry said. He unwound her fingers from his hair. "Right," he said again, feeling that everything was most certainly not right. He held Hermione back by her shoulders as she tried to touch his hair. He turned her around and gave her a little push. She stumbled and then plopped down next to Draco Malfoy.

"Wow, your sweater is so, so clothy," Harry heard her say in the din of the Great Hall.

Just then one of the gnomes in the bright, flashy clothing ran up and bit Harry's ankle. He tried to remember what kind of gnome it was, but couldn't think of the family name. Suddenly, Harry didn't find it all that stressing. His eyes unfocused and he raised his hands as if trying to catch something in the air.

"Look at all the colors," he said with a smile.


	13. Necessities

This was it. The final battle. Again. Harry had always secretly thought it was going to happen at Hogwarts, perhaps in the Great Hall with all his living friends watching in awe as he trumped the powerful dark wizard and his nifty new powerful wand. But, alas, Harry was wrong. What else is new?

No one was around to see the last confrontation between Harry and Lord Voldemort. Harry's friends were at a pub getting sloshed—much more fun than witnessing the greatest battle in the better part of a century. The Death Eaters were all at Lucius Malfoy's annual pool party. Voldemort hadn't been invited because no one wanted to see his old man chest.

So Harry and Voldemort were alone, circling each other in a dark, nameless wood. The foliage was thick, making it impossible to tell whether it was day or night, though Harry's dinosaur watch showed it to be around four in the afternoon. Every tree's trunk was at least three men thick, proving the forest to be many, many years old. All things fuzzy wuzzy had hurriedly left the area upon feeling the Dark Lord's entrance, and the air around the dancing duo was thick with silence. Each had their wand pointed at the other's chest, both arms steady. Neither said a word, and by some mutual silent agreement neither cast any spell until some sort of sign was given.

A ghostly apparition floated out of a nearby tree. It was the figure of a young, bodacious woman, and her clothing suggested she was a whore from the fifties. She looked at the two men standing outside what happened to be her bathroom. She smirked at the most fearsome dark lord and pushed her see-through chest out in Harry's direction. After assessing the situation, the ghost walked to the absolute middle of the circle Harry and Voldemort had paced, and removed the silly handkerchief from around her neck. With a final look at the two men, she suddenly threw her arms and head back as if offering her womanly chest to the gods.

The battle was on.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Extremus Crepito!"

"Crucio!"

"Suscito!"

"Nex Tardus!"

"Piggly Wiggly!"

"Aer Virus!"

"Offendo!"

Harry's trip jinx managed to catch the old man, and he went down hard. The boy ran up to him, his finger in his mouth, and stuck it in the horrid lord's ear and wiggled it around for good measure. Seemingly satisfied, he stepped back to observe his work.

Voldemort's face was textbook definition of abject horror. His mouth hung slightly open, his next curse forgotten. The scary death light in his eyes had gone out.

"Was that really necessary?" he eventually croaked out, staring up at Harry like a dog that was just kicked by its master.

"Yes, I think it was," Harry sniffed.

Lord Voldemort stood up slowly and rubbed his violated ear with a handful of robes in an attempt to get the squishy feeling to go away. He thought of all the times he had tried to kill or otherwise maim the boy in front of him, and the old man supposed the kid had a point.

"You're right. Friends?"

The Dark Lord held out his hand. Harry looked at it disdainfully for a few moments, letting his arch nemesis suffer just a bit more, before allowing a grin to stretch his cheeks wide as he grasped the other man's hand.

"Friends."

"Great! Want to hold hands and skip?" Lord Voldemort asked.

"Sure!"

And Harry and the dark Lord Voldemort held hands and skipped to a nearby meadow where they picked daisies and braided each other's hair.


	14. Where the Rainbow Ends

Professor Moody was one of the highest ranking Aurors at the Ministry before he was forced to retire. He filled half the cells in Azkaban, and gave parts of his body, mind, and soul to do so. His personal maxim—that everyone was a bastard until able to prove otherwise—was always at the forefront of his mind, even after Dumbledore conned him into taking that blasted teaching post and the old ex-Auror took up residence at the "safe" school. Never can be too careful, eh?

Plus kids are a bunch of rats.

Today Moody was teaching the fourth year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs about the Unforgivable Curses. Even though the Ministry wouldn't approve, Dumbledore wanted the kids to be prepared with the current state of things: Voldemort, Death Eaters, death, doom, destruction. Damn Dumbledore and his dumb alliteration. The ex-Auror clumped into the room with his magical eye whizzing in every direction to determine any threats.

"I'll be teaching you lot about the Unforgivable Curses today," Moody growled. He flicked his wand at the desks in front of him, and the magic arranged them in a horseshoe shape to give plenty of space for demonstrations. From his seat along the wall, Draco Malfoy shivered with excitement. "When you all understand what each curse does," the professor continued, "I'll be trying the lot of them on you so you can understand what they feel like."

The Hufflepuffs turned green, and a couple stuttered out feeble protests. The Slytherins looked smug. Draco was would have bounced in his seat, but Slytherins don't bounce.

"Each of you will be put under the Imperius Curse until you learn how to throw it off," Moody said, ignoring the students' reactions. "Once you have mastered that, I will put you under the Cruciatus for precisely two seconds in order to teach you what's awaiting you outside these doors." The Hufflepuffs whimpered like a pack of dogs. Draco clicked his heels together underneath his robes. "And at the end of the semester, I will pull one of your names randomly from a hat and Avada Kedavra your ass. Each of your parents has already signed the permission form, so there's no use whining," he finished with a growl.

Draco couldn't help himself. "That's fantabulous!"


	15. Broadway

"What did you do this summer, Hermione?"

It was the first day of school. The first years had been Sorted, Dumbledore had said his usual odd opening words, and the golden plates had filled with food. On one side of Hermione were Lavender and Parvati, and across from them were Ron, Harry, and Ginny. Lavender asked the question before a taking a dainty bite of salad. Harry, Ron, and Ginny all looked at their bushy-haired friend, interested in her answer. She hadn't sent any letters all summer.

"Ahmehuhboyahthuhbeah," she mumbled, looking down at her plate.

"Sorry, what was that?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food. He grinned at Parvati's disgusted face.

Pink spots blossomed on Hermione's cheeks. "I met a boy at the beach," she said, enunciating each word clearly.

Harry and Ron gaped, which was rather gross on Ron's part as his mouth was full of potatoes, carrots, and beef. Harry's fork was merely precariously suspended over his lap.

Ginny smirked. "All that way for some guy? I thought you were smarter than that." The youngest Weasley looked decidedly…sluttier than she had at the end of the last school year.

"He was special," Hermione defended. Harry and Ron instantly lost interest in the conversation. Girl talk. Ergh.

"Ain't no such thing," the redhead said smartly.

"He was really romantic." Ginny lost interest.

Hermione started tapping her foot on the stone floor. It was lost in the din of conversation and scraping silverware, but she could still feel the tempo of her leg, which was the point. Once she felt she could hold the meter, she began humming. First softly, as though afraid of her own voice, but then louder as the group around her gave her questioning glances.

"Summer lovin', happened so fast,

Met a boy, cute as can be."

There was an odd pause between the couplet as if someone else had other lines, and she stopped here as if waiting for this same person to tell their own story in the song. She had attracted half the Gryffindor table's attention by now. Parvati and Lavender grinned at each other and began tapping their feet in time.

"Tell me more, tell me more," they sang together shrilly.

"Like does he have a car?" Parvati finished alone with a high dose of giggles. Harry visibly flinched.

Hermione grinned back at them. "Do do," she sang.

"Uh huh," Fred and George chimed in down the table.

Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender continued with the 'do do's and were quickly joined by the rest of the Gryffindor girls, most of the Hufflepuff females, and half of Ravenclaw's. Fred and George carried on with their 'uh huh's and a good chunk of the Hogwarts' male population joined in. The Slytherins sat stiffly at their table, though some could be seen tapping their feet or nodding their heads. Draco Malfoy looked especially pale.

Ron looked at Harry with fear etched into every line of his face. "What's going on?" he whispered hoarsely.

"I think—" Harry began before Ron interrupted him. The redhead grabbed the neck of Harry's robes, effectively cutting him off.

"No!" he yelled manically over the continuing 'uh huh's and 'do do's. "No! I need to know exactly what's going on!" Ron screamed into Harry's face.

Harry scrunched up his nose. Ron really needed a breath mint. "It reminds me of _Grease_ when Sandy first got to Rydell…" he trailed off. He was having sudden flashbacks of Dudley watching the American film over and over, making Harry sing the duets with him when no one else was around. He shuddered. "It's a muggle thing, Ron," he finally mumbled.

"She swam by me, she got a cramp," introduced Dumbledore. He did an odd, little jig with his lines.

"He ran by me, got my suit damp," continued Hermione.

"I saved her life, she nearly drowned."

"He showed off, splashin' around."

Hermione and Dumbledore sang the next few lines together.

"Summer sun, something's begun,

But, oh, those summer nights."

"Wella, wella, wella, who?" sang Hagrid and Professor Flitwick together. Snape scowled at the tiny man next to him. Participating in this tomfoolery, really!

"Tell me more, tell me more," Lavender and Parvati sang again.

"Was it love at first sight?" Pansy Parkinson yelled over from the other side of the hall. Draco flinched.

"Did she put up a fight?" asked Blaise Zabini with a dirty smirk.

The 'uh huh's and 'do do's began again, only this time the 'do do's became 'do be do's. Everyone in the Hall was either standing up dancing or swaying in their seats.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to continue with the next stanza, but someone beat him to the next line.

"Took her bowling in the arcade," came a shaky, low voice. Everyone stopped dancing. As one, every person in the Great Hall turned. And there, at the Slytherin table, the only Snake standing, was Draco Malfoy. Hermione smiled at him, her eyes shining.

"We went strolling, drank lemonade," sang Hermione, all the while staring at Draco.

"We made out under the dock." He smirked. She blushed.

"We stayed out 'til ten o' clock." He rolled his eyes.

"Summer fling, don't mean a thing,

But, oh, those summer nights," they sang together.

No one said anything for a second. And then they started again, ten times louder than before, suddenly much more interested in Hermione's summer.

"Tell me more, tell me more," every girl practically screamed.

"But you don't gotta brag," yelled Cedric Diggory.

"Tell me more, tell me more."

"'Cause he sounds like a drag," drawled Ginny.

"Shoo," sang the girls. "Bop bop," sang the guys. "Yeah," they all sang together as they swept their arms out.

"He got friendly holding my hand." Hermione smiled.

"Well, she got friendly down in the sand." She frowned.

"He was sweet, just turned eighteen." He scowled. Malfoy's weren't sweet.

"Well, she was good, you know what I mean." Draco smirked at her again as he added a couple of pelvic thrusts to the line.

"Summer heat, boy and girl meet,

But, oh, those summer nights."

"Tell me more, tell me more."

"How much dough did he spend?" yelled Cho.

"Tell me more, tell me more."

"Could she get me a friend?" asked Percy.

The tempo slowed. People stopped dancing and sat down in their seats. Only Hermione and Draco remained standing, and they were slowly drifting towards each other.

"It turned colder, that's where it ends."

"So I told her, we'd still be friends."

"Then we made our true-love vow."

They were right in front of each other now and consequently the entire Great Hall.

"Wonder what she's doing now." Draco smiled sadly and touched her arm.

"Summer dreams, ripped at the seams,

But, oh. Those summer nights…"

The song ended. Hermione and Draco stared at each other, but neither took that single step closer that would bring them together. Eventually they drifted apart and went their separate ways. Hermione sat back down next to Lavender and Parvati.

Lavender patted her arm. "He sounds real nice," she said softly.

"He didn't touch you?" Ginny asked harshly. "Sounds like a creep."

Hermione hung her head. "He was a gentleman," she said to herself.


	16. Stick it to the Man

Towards dusk one night, Harry was wandering the castle alone. He was possessed with that good old wizard angst again, and Hermione had threatened to hex him into a girl if he insisted on acting like one, which really didn't help matters any. So Harry left Gryffindor tower to go have his emo alone time. After roaming around the dull grey halls for an hour, he decided his angst would be better spent outside, and he eased open the castle's front doors and slipped outside.

It was cool outside, perfect for an angsty person wearing only thin robes. After some thought, Harry choose to walk around the large castle rather than through the forest. The forest would really be the ideal place for an angst walk, but Harry didn't much feel like dealing with centaurs, acromantulas, or bunnies. He instead turned and followed the walls of the castle, seeing if it was possible to walk all the way around it.

After half an hour, Harry decided walking around the castle was just as boring as walking through it. It did, however, give him lots of time to spend with his thoughts, which is what an angsty person does. This is stupid, he thought, and I'm cold. He pulled his robes tighter. I'm such a failure, he continued. I can't hold down a girlfriend, I haven't got a family, and I have this stupid scar on my face. He banged his fist into his forehead. It hurt, and he felt a little better.

He turned a corner of the building and stopped. Ahead of him he could see a person facing the wall. Harry could see only his back and that the kid's arms were doing something in front of him. The red shock of hair gave him away anyways.

"Ron?" Harry asked. He walked forward until he was only a few feet away. Once closer, he could his friend's position more clearly and quickly turned away. "Ron, what are you doing?" he asked, even though he was confident he knew what the answer was.

"I'm taking a piss," Ron said as if it were the most obvious thing. "Has that angst addled your brain?"

Harry tensed at the jibe. "But we have perfectly functional toilets up in the castle," he reminded his ginger-haired sidekick.

"Whatever, man. I do what I want." He zipped up and wiped his hands on his robes. "So out on another angst walk? That's the third one this week," Ron said nonchalantly. He put his hands in his pockets.

That was it for Harry. His life was hell, damnit! He had to deal with barmy headmasters, smarmy potions masters, and a sodding dark lord that tried to scalp him every five minutes. Harry saw red.

He lunged at Ron, wrapping his fingers around the ginger kid's neck. "I—have—the—bloody—wizard's—angst—you—bloody—moron!" Harry punctuated each word by slamming Ron's head into the stone wall of the castle, and by the time he got to the word 'moron,' Ron really was a bloody mess.

Harry stepped back, breathing hard. Ron was pushing himself up against the wall, mumbling 'buggerations.' He looked terrible. Bruises were already forming on his neck, his eyes were slightly crossed, and his hair was two very different colors of red.

And Harry's angst turned.

He lunged at Ron again, throwing his arms around his friend's bruised neck and crying into his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said over and over. "I love you, don't ever leave me," he wailed.

"Bugger."

* * *

Note: I am so so so so sorry. I never meant to wait this long between updates, but I was posting on days I had off and then suddenly they stopped giving me days off and I had a fulltime job even though I only applied for a parttime one. Never work for Pompei in Schaumburg. I really am sorry. I have next Wednesday off though (yay!), so look for another post then.


	17. National Cuddle Day

"Offendo!"

Ron dodged Malfoy's Tripping Jinx but managed to stumble on the hem of his robes anyways. The redhead crashed into the stone wall and was forced to fall to the ground as the Slytherin shot something dark green at the place his head had just been. The wall turned purple and fuzzy.

"What is your problem, Malfoy?" Ron yelled as he dodged another unknown curse. "Did Crabbe and Goyle eat your favorite owl?"

Malfoy stopped. Weasley had no idea how close he was to guessing the reason behind the unprovoked attack. His throat closed up and his vision became blurry. Suddenly he was furious at Ron, he wanted to tear him limb from limb and wear his fingers as a necklace. But his throat was too tight, he couldn't pronounce any spell and his anger made him forget every nonverbal spell he knew. He started shaking.

Ron peeked out from the nook he took refuge in. Malfoy was just standing there, shaking, with his wand held loosely and pointed to the ground. "What happened?" Ron asked softly.

The blond swallowed. "Mr. Mimbles…" he said, but it was all he was able to get out before he collapsed to the floor and the waterworks started. Draco Malfoy, supposed Sex God of Slytherin, future Death Eater extraordinaire, was crying like his father had just shot his pet bunny.

The brave Gryffindor thought about just turning tail and running from the other boy, but considering Hermione had thrown him out of the tower under pain of castration, he decided to take his chances with the Slytherin. Ron crawled out of his nook and over to his opponent. When he got there, he stopped, unsure of what to do. He never was good with emotions. Hell, that was the reason he had been evicted from Gryffindor tower.

"What happened?" he asked again.

Malfoy took a great shuddering breath. "Crabbe and Goyle—boiled—Mr. Mimbles!" he managed to say between sobs.

"Er, who was Mr. Mimbles?" Ron asked.

The use of the past tense for Mr. Mimbles' life made the Slytherin cry harder. "He was my stuffed snake!" he all but screamed.

Ron blanched. He had no idea what he would do if anything like that happened to Teddy. He didn't know if he could even go on without Teddy. Ron tutted, sounding oddly like his mother. "Someone needs a hug, come here now," he said kindly.

He barely had time to open his arms before the blond threw himself at Ron. His momentum knocked the two over, though Draco didn't seem to notice. He was sobbing into Ron's chest, clutching the redhead's robes in his hands. Ron's arms circled around the shorter boy and began rubbing circles on his back. Eventually the tears stopped, and Malfoy was left taking great shuddering breaths. Ron held him tight, trying to slow the boy's racing heart.

"You are an incompetent prat, Weasley," said Draco as he unconsciously wiped his dripping nose on the other boy's tie.

"Yes, yes," Ron said absentmindedly as he lifted the boy up. "I love you, too."

Draco blanched this time. "I—you," he stuttered before cursing himself. Malfoy's don't stutter. "Come to Hogsmeade with me," he said with some of his usual power.

Ron grinned at him, and not kindly. "And then what, Malfoy? We can hold hands and skip and live happily ever after?" Ron said in an uncharacteristically harsh voice. "We're not friends, mate, so just go slither off."

Draco turned quickly so the other boy wouldn't see his deepening blush. He walked stiffly away without another word.

A week later, Malfoy was returning to his dorm after the last day's lesson. He dropped his bag on his trunk and pulled open the hangings on his bed. There, on top of his dark green covers, was a large red and yellow striped stuffed snake. Around its neck was a tag that said only 'Leo.'

Draco cuddled with it for the rest of the night.


	18. Questionable Spigot Locations

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione slowly made their way through the Forbidden Forest. The quartet had been walking for some time, and only Harry knew how much further they had to go. Only Harry knew the reason they were in the forest. Dun dun dun…

"Are we there yet?" Ron whined after he stumbled over a tree root. Hermione put a firm hand on his shoulder and balanced him.

"Shut up, Ron," his sister snapped, giving him an evil glare. "It's obvious we aren't. You can stop asking every five seconds."

Hermione frowned. "Well, maybe if we knew why we're breaking school rules in the first place…"

"Oy." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry will tell you when we get there, relax."

"So then you know what he has to say?" Hermione asked.

The youngest Weasley 'hurrumph'ed and crossed her arms over her chest. Hermione smirked. The four students continued walking in silence.

"Are we there yet?"

"Ron, shut—"

"Yes."Harry cut the redhead off. He stood in the middle of a small clearing, small enough that the surrounding trees still blocked out most of the afternoon sun. "We're here. Sit down, please." He motioned to a couple of conveniently placed logs. His trio of friends gingerly sat down on the fallen trees and the raven-haired boy began pacing. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, and then suddenly he started rambling.

"I have to tell you guys something, it's really important and it changes everything, but I don't know how to just come out and say it because I don't know how any of you will take it and I don't want you to take it terribly because I don't think I could live like that but I can't live like this either because I'm living a lie and I can't do it anymore and—"

"Harry!"

The nervous wreck stopped and looked up from the trench he wore into the ground. His eyes were as large as Dobby's.

"What the bloody hell are you trying to say?" Ron asked eloquently. On one side of him, Hermione had her thinking cap on as she pieced the puzzle together, despite the fact that Harry still hadn't said exactly why they were in the forest. On Ron's other side, Ginny's mouth was slack, her eyes slightly protruding, as if she already had the mystery solved. Ron always was a bit slow.

"Are you saying—" Hermione began.

"No! No, I don't want to hear it!" Ginny screamed manically. "I love you! Doesn't that mean anything?"

Harry dropped to his knees in supplication. "It means everything to me," he said in a thick voice, "that's why I have to do this. I can't keep lying." Tears leaked out of his eyes and Ginny began crying as well before she threw her arms around his neck.

"Er, I still don't understand," Ron stupidly pointed out.

"Ronald," sighed Hermione in exasperation, "it's rather obvious. Harry's—"

"My favorite color is green."

Dun dun dun?

"What?"

"Harry James Potter! I am going to kill you!" screeched Ginny. She made good on her threat by wrapping her small hands around his throat.

"I knew you were going to take it bad!" Harry managed to squeak.

After a few minutes of strangling Harry, Ginny released the boy and returned to her spot on the log. Harry edged back, never turning his back on the fiery redhead, until his back was supported by one of the forest's many trees. He took great gulping breaths as he massaged his recently released neck.

"I still don't understand!" Ron wailed.

"If irony were pumpkins, we'd be drinking a lot of pumpkin juice right now," Hermione said with a smirk before taking a sip of said juice from a glass in her hand.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" asked Harry.

Ron grimaced and shifted uncomfortably on the log. "You don't want to know."

* * *

Note: So I know I made a big deal about not updating every week, but you probably shouldn't expect a new chapter next week. Thanksgiving and all that jazz. I didn't even know it was next week until last night. Stupid work. Right, you don't care about that. Anything else important? Umm, reviews are lovely... Have a good Turkey Day if you celebrate it and eat meat, and if not, just have a good day.


	19. Damn that Man

"Harry! Harry! I've just had an accident!"

A very pale Ginny Weasley burst into the boy's dormitory looking for her super hot and über famous boyfriend, Harry Potter. The boy in question was lying on his four-poster, wearing a mudpack, and simply relaxing as super hot and über famous boyfriends are wont to do. He didn't look all that concerned about the distraught redhead currently clutching the doorframe taking great gulps of air. He didn't say anything.

"It was extremely serious, Harry!" Ginny said hoarsely. "My toe was cut off during a freak Care of Magical Creatures accident!"

"Huh." He delicately scratched his nose. Some clay flaked off and landed on his t-shirt.

"You don't understand! It's gone forever! A flobberworm ate it!" She stumbled across the room and landed on her knees on the side of his bed.

Harry looked down his nose at her. "So?"

"You don't understand!" Ginny sobbed again. "My toe was the last horcrux!" The only response she received was an arched eyebrow, so she continued on her own. "When I was three Tom kidnapped me and put part of his soul into my toe for safe keeping! I don't know how he did it since he was only an evil shadow spirit thingy, but he did! And he told me that if the prophesized child were to boil it with three eggs and exactly seventeen linguine noodles, the world would live in peace for thirty-two bazillion years! But if it were to ever come into contact with a flobberworm, you would die a horrible, horrible death and he would live forever and ever!" She started gasping for air again at the end of the explanation.

Without bothering to answer, Harry closed his eyes and leaned back. "Frankly, my dear, I just don't give a damn." When Ginny didn't say anything, he cracked an eye open. "Is there something else?" Ginny still didn't answer, though her mouth was wide open like Quidditch rings guarded by Ron. "Well, go on then." Harry waved a hand in obvious dismissal.

As Ginny was leaving, Harry snapped his fingers. The last thing she saw was Dobby wearing a little maid's outfit and a bright red drink with an umbrella.


	20. A Sexy Teddy

Lively daisies lined the aisle and were wound around a hand-carved hoopah. Fred, George, and Harry stood off to one side while Ginny, Hermione's older sister Gertrude, and Colin Creevey stood on the other side of the aisle, all dressed in simple blue dresses. Ron fidgeted alone below the wooden arch. As Hermione made her way down the wedding aisle, the audience oohed and Mrs. Weasley wept. Her baby boy was getting married!

Hermione made a beautiful bride.

"Look at Mum," said Fred in a voice loud enough to carry across the hall.

"Weeping like a leaky faucet," answered George in an equally loud voice.

"Like she's never been to a wedding," returned Fred.

"She didn't cry at our weddings," said George.

"Yeah, she was a bloody Saharan Desert then," Fred grumbled.

"Well, you two did get divorced the next day, so what's the big deal?" whispered Harry out of the corner of his mouth. He wasn't going to be the one to ruin this wedding. Ron could take care of that on his own, thankyouverymuch.

"That's not the point, mate," George said as he clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"The point is," continued Fred," is that she's our mother."

"And she should cry like Niagara Falls at her sons' weddings."

Hermione finally reached the end of the aisle and the charmed violins decrescendoed into silence. She and Ron looked at each other with eyes full of love, and the rest of the hall sighed with the beauty of it all.

"Hey, remember when Ron put on one of Mum's dresses and a pair of her heels and insisted his teddy was taking him out on a hot date?" asked George, his voice still echoing through the room.

"Yeah, he's cleaned up since then." Fred answered.

"But that was only last Tuesday," Ginny called from across the aisle.

"Huh. It's a wonder what magic can do," Hermione said with an impish grin.

And then Professor Dumbledore began the service. He wore a daisy tucked behind his ear.


	21. Disco Draco

"Snakes give me the willies."

"That's ironic."

"I know it's ironic, Potter. You don't have to state the obvious. Your turn."

Harry and Draco were plastered to the Hogwarts' ramparts. Not only were they stuck to the wall, they were stuck to the wall with vibrantly purple goo. Not a very manly color at all. Such was the genius of Team Dumbledore and Teddy. Teddy was the brains of course. Dumbledore wanted to just wave his wand around a bit and stick the two boys to the side of the castle. Senile old coot.

The two had been stuck up there for quite some time. Most of the school had been out to see them and have a good laugh. Hermione even wet herself a little. They had yelled at each other and struggled for a bit, but it was useless. Teddy's skills with goo were just too great. And so after four hours of 'you're the bigger prat' 'no, you're the bigger prat,' they began talking. Not about Voldemort or the war—no, that was too easy—but about each other. Because we all knew they were secretly curious.

"Even though my aunt made me do it ever since I was seven and even though I'm a boy and have a penis, I love to cook."

"You need to learn to be succinct."

"Yeah? And you need to learn to play quidditch. Go."

"You wound me." Draco thought for a moment. "I buy hair gel with gold glitter in it."

"What? Why?"

"It catches the light and eye of the better half of the species," Draco said with a knowing sniff.

Harry strained his neck to try and see Draco. "You wear glitter hair gel, and you're still the sex god of Slytherin. How is that possible?"

"My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard."

Harry gagged. They didn't say anything for a few moments, and Draco tried to touch his nose with his tongue.

"When we get down from here, do you want to be best friends forever and hold hands and skip?" Harry asked.

"Urgh, no. You touched Voldemort's creepy spider hands and braided his nonexistent hair. You'll have cooties for life."


	22. The Clash

The two armies stood facing each other across a bright green turf. Each looked at the opposing side with hard eyes, prepared to fight until they fell, waiting for some signal to begin the battle. The Rebel Waltz danced through the thick air.

Draco Malfoy stood to the side. He was tense and ready for action. He stood motionless, waiting for the exact right moment. When the last notes of the waltz ran through his head, he lunged.

"Surrender now or prepare to fight!" he yelled.

He leapt at the opposing army. The action sent stuffed animal armies flying everywhere. Draco rolled on his bed, giggling like a little girl because instead of properly sexing up Pansy, he was playing with his impressive stuffed animal collection.

* * *

Sorry about the wait, guys. I thought this chapter was terrible for the longest time, so I just gave up on the challenge. Spending six months away from it let me refresh, and when I opened the file last night, I tweaked it in five seconds and was enormously happy. So enjoy the returning randomness.


	23. That Cat Lady

Harry and Ron were playing another exciting game of wizard's chess when Hermione walked up to their table. She looked pale and her hair was wilder than usual, as if she had run her hands through it numerous times. Her eyes were wide like Luna's. Ginny stood at her side like a sentinel of silent support.

"Ron, I have to talk to you."

"Huh?" he said fluently. He was busy watching one of his pawns take Harry's last knight. It was an interesting battle.

"I need to speak with you," Hermione said again. She began to wring her hands.

Ron studied the board for a few moments, made his move, and crossed his arms in satisfaction. "Okay, talk to me. What is it?" He kept his eyes on the game.

"I'd rather say it in private, actually." She was wringing her hands so hard they began to turn red. Ginny touched the older girl's arm in sympathy.

"Aw, 'Mione." He finally looked up. "We're in the middle of this game, and I'm kicking Harry's ass. Can't you just tell me here?"

Ginny made a growl of anger, but before she could unleash it on her brother, Hermione exploded.

"Fine, Ronald! I'll tell you right here!" she screamed. "I'm pregnant!"

Ron's mouth went slack. A beat of silent eternity seemed to pass, and then he jumped up. He whirled back around to face Harry.

"Booyah!" he yelled with a grin on his face. "We've only been making the beast for two weeks and she's pregnant. You've been banging my sister for over a year and she's still got an empty oven, and Weasleys are as fertile as rabbits. Take that Mr Boy-Who-Lived!" Ron shook his booty in celebration.

"Huh," Harry said succinctly. "I guess I'll just have to sex her up even more. Come on, Ginny. Let's put a bun in that oven."

Before they took two steps from the table, a crack rang out and Dobby was standing next to Harry.

"Dobby is loving to make buns! Is he being able to help Harry Potter, sir?" the house elf asked, his round eyes pleading with Harry.

Harry laughed and put a hand on Dobby's shoulder. "No, not this time. We were talking about making babies, not actual buns. Sorry."

Dobby's little elf shoulders sagged, and then he looked up at Harry with hard eyes. "It is being okay, sir. Just do not be naming the brat Albus Severus. 'Tis such a stupid name."

Ginny scrunched up her nose in distaste. "It's almost as bad as Hugo," Hermione said.

"Aye," answered Dobby with a solemn nod of his head. "Enjoy your babe-making, Harry Potter, sir," he said before leaving with a crack.

"Who would name a kid Hugo?" Ron asked. "They would have to hate children."

"The same person who would want to name a kid Albus Severus," answered Harry. "Honestly. It'd have to be one of those crazy cat ladies."

The two couples stood in silence for a few moments, and Ron began poking Hermione's still flat tummy.

"Shall you sex me up properly now, dear?" Ginny asked sweetly.


	24. Girls Gone Wild

The Gryffindors and Slytherins were all seated at their tables in the potions lab before the bell even rang. Snape had been in a terror—Dark Mark crabs had him in an itch—and no one was safe, not even loyal Snakes. The professor entered the class as the bell intoned the start of the period, his robes billowing out in their usual menacing manner. Everyone shivered as the temperature seemed to drop and the air became thick as margarine with Professor Grumpy's anger. He strode to the front of the lab and faced the students.

"Who wants free housepoints?" he asked sarcastically. His voice held a tone that said anyone who answered would be severely humiliated.

"Ooh!"

Hermione always was thick.

She was jumping up and down with her hand in the air, waving it like she just didn't care… Well, no, not really. But she did have her hand in the air, and her face was eager with anticipation. Snape looked murderous in comparison, but that's not really all that new. He idly scratched his arm.

"Really now, Miss Granger? I can hardly believe it," he drawled. Snape raised an eyebrow. "Would no one else like to partake in this opportunity?"

Draco couldn't help himself, he got sucked in. "I would, sir."

If Snape was able to smile he would have, but it would not have been done in happiness. The venomous pleasure showed on his face anyway. "Very well." He clapped his hands in a Dumbledore-esque fashion and all the tables and students were pushed against the walls. Draco and Hermione remained in the middle of the room as everyone else vainly attempted to push their work tables away from their crushed chests.

"You two will compete in a wet t-shirt contest to earn these points. You may begin."

Snape clapped again and jets of water began to spray at the two students. It was not a lovely sight. Hermione's movements were all jerky and twitchy like she was having a seizure, and Draco looked like he was trying to mate with the air. Snape let this go on for five minutes, long enough for the Gryffindors and Slytherins to get over their differences and hoot indiscriminately at their peers.

"That is enough," Snape said. The water stopped. Draco and Hermione shivered with anticipation. "That was the worst display of sexiness I've ever seen. Twenty-five housepoints from Gryffindor for making me feel embarrassed for you, Miss Granger. Mr Malfoy, forty points from Slytherin for making me throw up a little."

Hermione and Draco slumped with disappointment.

"This," Snape said, "is how one wins a wet t-shirt contest." He clapped once more and the jets of water began to spray him. He writhed and stripped like a pro.


End file.
